Sucker Love
by funanyaTHEmute
Summary: -On Hold- Edward's escape to South America was supposed to be a self-induced torture for the wrongs he did to Bella. Charlie only wanted to find a little adventure on a family vacation. Edward/OC
1. Heaven Sent

**Sucker Love**

**Chapter One: Heaven Sent**

**Disclaimer: Yes. I do, in fact, own Twilight. Stephanie Meyer is just a pseudonym I used so as to not attract attention in the public eye and help me to live a normal life. Damn, secret blown. Don't tell anyone!**

**...Please, don't tell me any of you believed that?**

* * *

He wasn't tan. Not at all. I had envisioned Brazilian men to be dark, muscles sculpted with inhuman lithe and minds as dull and thick as bricks.

He certainly was inhuman, just not in the brutish Hercules sense that I had expected. He wasn't at a lost for intellectual function in the least - sometimes it seemed as if there were centuries worth of carefully developed thoughts and theories evolved in his young mind. He couldn't have been older than seventeen, but it was like he had lived twice as long as my grandfather. A pure, innocently poetic soul. A tragedy.

I admit, I had been looking forward to the excess of bare-chested Portuguese males, greased with sweaty perspiration glittering in the blistering sunlight and babbling out grunts in a foreign, intelligible tongue.

He spoke perfect English. Too perfect. I had never seen him without long sleeves and slacks (how he could bare it, I could only suspect Witchery), never mind actually being shirtless or dressed in only swim trunks like I had imagined the population to be half the time.

The deeply burnt copper skins were ubiquitous, clashing almost grotesquely with his sickly pallor complexion. Never again would I criticize my own measly baked coloring after encountering this boy. 'Pale as the dead,' my father had described him.

I don't know why it was the only thing marauding through my thoughts. _He _was the only thing. It was like nothing else mattered - there was no more purpose to this vacation, the ethnic scenery, scantily clad men, or the very air I breathed. It was like he was the plague itself - never mind those ridiculous 'jungle fever' shots I had been forced into having injected, there should have been some sort of 'Edward Cullen' vaccine. I would have taken part in that one willingly.

* * *

It was to ensure that _pathogenic transmission_ wouldn't be a problem for us. At least, that was what my mother said on the ride to the airport, whatever it actually meant. Sure, I could make a few guesses - I wasn't stupid, nor was I ignorant. I had enough sense in me to figure it was something along the lines of preventing sickness in an underdeveloped country. The transfer of foreign disease and parasites wasn't something I wanted to risk. But why did the damned things have to _hurt _so much? That was my only question. Who exactly was it that had the brilliance to come up with jamming a thin, pointed metal needle into a persons skin and injection various drugs directly into their blood stream? Those things are on the inside for a _reason_, you know. Couldn't those doctors come up with some sort of oral tablet form of all these 'required' shots? My entire arm, from the shoulder downward, was still numb even now - hours after our plane had already landed in the tropics. Shouldn't that mean something?

I honestly didn't care much for South America. The only things that came to mind were Native Americans, rain forests, and bugs. _A lot _of bugs. I also thought of jungle cats and soccer, but neither interested me enough to urge a visit. There were plenty of other retreats that didn't call for prior medical torture: places in the Caribbean with crystal oceans and palm trees. I suppose I really shouldn't be complaining, though. After all, how many kids at school could say they've been below the zero degree latitude line? Swansea wasn't exactly a big town - my high school had a grand total of just under 600 students. In fact, we (us Swanseans, that is) are so insignificant to the state of Massachusetts that our school had run out of white paper by the third semester; The town was unable to buy any more in the middle of the educational year without government provided funds. For the next three months, we had completed assignments and taken our end-of-the-year finals on hues of blue, green and pink sheets. It was another good thing that I had made it a habit of rejecting defrosted preservative slop, brown-bagging my lunch the old-fashioned way. You could never really know when the food supply at lunch would run dry. The system had no shame in sending students back to class hungry; It was almost sad to admit you hadn't eaten an afternoon meal because the cafeteria had run out of food that day.

With that being established, I wasn't expecting much from this get-away. I knew the plane tickets and hotel must have costs my parents practically enough to send both my sister and I through a semester of college, but I figured the actual stay would be less than aristocratic. Outside of our suite, all there would be was insufferably humid wilds and natives dressed in little more than loincloths, tattooed and pierced in places that had no business being punctured.

It came as an Olympian relief when I perceived the land for the first time - a surprisingly replete civilization. Brazil - or at least the tourist attracted routes- was graciously abound with modern-day buildings, automobiles and technology. I realized how pessimistic it was of me to have expected an Aztec empire in the twenty first century. As long as I stuck to the populated areas and tourist routes, I wouldn't need to be anxious of a hostile wilderness, I figured.

The fresh air outside of the airport felt like a horrible hell after stepping out from the air-conditioned shelter. I scowled, already feeling beads of sweat steeping my hairline. It was only after I had plucked the aviators from a modest carry-on dangling in my grip and my sight was protectively shaded did I allow the most minuscule of smiles to twitch onto the corners of my lips, surveying every ounce of scenery surrounding me. I couldn't see much of the wild through the mass of traffic whizzing by the pick-up lane, but I knew enough by this first glance impression to make a decision.

Wow. It was definitely nothing like "The Jungle Book."

"What'cha smirking at?"

The upturning curve was gone in an instant, frown set firmly back into place as I sent a lazy glare downward, knowing the offender couldn't see my expressive eyes through the darkened lenses. Saerik pouted irritably, the motion intensified by the decent amount of baby-fat compounding her rounded cheeks. I sighed lightly, shaking my head infinitesimally as I brought my line of vision up beyond her 4'9" frame. At only a meter and one third tall and eleven years old, she was was one kid with a voracious knack for trouble-making. A pain in the ass to me, but an adored 'sweetheart' to my parents. The way they saw it, she was just 'at that age'. It was the same excuse they dubbed on me whenever I complained about how annoying and spoiled she was. It was pure drudgery to convince them that it wasn't simply a cry for attention that caused me to express the nearly interminable frustration a younger sister gave me.

"I'm not smirking," I droned, careful not to put the slightest tinge of interest into my tone. She tended to drift off faster if I proved to be an unentertaining subject. "Where're mom and dad?"

I had noticed as I completed my scan of the hustling crowds - the two were no where in sight. While the situation was potentially panic inducing, I knew better than to think anything less than the spawn at my side had simply slipped away while our elders collected the luggage from the airport baggage claim. Her nonchalant shrug of the shoulders only confirmed my suspicion. I scoffed, turning away and willing with my mind that she would go away. I almost wished we really were in some uncharted land and a rabid baboon would leap from the trees in pursuit of young children. The very idea brought another grin to my face - if only it could happen in reality.

"You're smirkin' again," the fifth grader sang, swaying her hips to the melody of her voice. I snorted, swiftly bringing an arm up to swat the back of her head. She led out a muffled wail, stumbling forward only a step or two before she had regained herself, swiveling around to narrow her moistened eyes towards me.

"Hey! Quit it, you loser!"

I wrinkled my nose at her terminology, the smile on my face widening to include teeth with a more mocking air. "Oh? So _I'm_ the loser, am I? You don't see me going around with nothing better to do than bother everyone in sight. Get a life, Eric."

She puffed out her cheeks, small fists curling up at her sides. "Why don't _you_ get a life, **Charlie**!"

I only cringed the smallest bit at her spat. Unfortunately, her teasing didn't include the same name-calling disreputing mine had. While 'Eric' was simply a masculine play on her unconventional name, Charlie was actually the authentic version of mine. I wasn't normally bothered very much at all by my parents' choice - it was only that sense of dread each first day of the school year brought. My classmates were used to the confusion by now, none of them fazed by the teachers' strange glances accompanying every new roll call. I had long since pretended to ignore it. There were two other Charlie's in my graduating class, only both of _them _were boys. Was it really such a ungraspable concept for a female to have a generically male name?

"Well, that was a superb comeback," I voiced with little enthusiasm, fighting off a cackle as my younger sister whined helplessly. It was unfathomable to me why she was always so hell bent on getting attention - whether good or bad, it didn't matter. Were all little kids such spot-light whores?

"Saerik! Charlie!"

I raised a brow, tilting my head towards a middle-aged couple making their way towards us, a suitcase in each of their hands as they weaved clumsily through the bustling traffic of other travelers. Never mind pre-pubescent girls: why did _parents _always feel the need to attract attention? Couldn't they have just made their way towards us without the call of warning? I was rather positive we would notice their arrival without a blatant introduction.

I sucked in my bottom lip, nibbling down lightly in mild displeasure as the pair came to a halt before us, breathing just the slightest bit rapid. My father took advantage of the motionless moment by releasing one of his arms to wipe across the length of his forehead and send a reproachful look up into the sky. I took it as a sign he was less than thrilled over the climate. My mother, however, had her scold directed towards her children.

"What did I tell you two before we got off the plane? I know we're all a little riled up from the flight, but we need to stay together!" she chided, first speaking to the both of us before deciding to single me out. "You should know better, Charlie! Set an example for your sister."

I felt my eyes widen to the circumference of a quarter. As expected, everything was blamed on me. Whatever Saerik chose to do, it was reflected on my influence. She had a mind of her own - it wasn't my fault if she chose not to use it to its limited potential. I was glad the sunglasses hid the look of shock on my face.

The little devil herself decided that the moment was as good as ever to allow her already sparkling celery orbs to glisten with unshed tears, flinging herself into our mother's arms.

"Mommy! Charlie was making fun of me again!"

My jaw slacked, instantly defending, "I was not! She started it!"

I almost winced at the juvenile retort. Sixteen and I really couldn't come up with something that didn't remind me of a typical Spongebob backfire?

My mother frowned, rubbing Saerik's back comfortingly. "Really, Charlie. Can't you lay off your sister for a while? We're on vacation, and I don't want to deal with the two of you at each others necks the entire time."

I huffed in disbelief, snapping my head away abruptly. Of course, just accuse me. I could almost feel the smug pride radiating off of Saerik's sniffling form, mom's hands still trailing her spine sympathetically. The little twerp.

"C'mon," my dad mumbled, gripping both suitcases again. He didn't have the same apparent prejudice towards me, but he never really backed me up either. Like most men, he usually just sat back until we had exhausted ourselves from conflict and oh-so cleverly averted the subject. "We still have to get a rental car. We should head over before the line gets too long."

My mother nodded silently in agreement, releasing Saerik and gently shooing her to the side as she beckoned one of the luggage bags towards me pointedly. I pursed my lips, snatching the handle up before stalking after my already retreating father. Sure, even hundreds of miles away from home and on the other side of the world I couldn't get a break. Was it too much to ask those gods watching out for me to send a little ray of sunshine my way? Preferably a romance-novel-esque meeting of soul mates? I wasn't that picky - just throw me _some_ kind of bone here!

Yeah, right. I wouldn't hold my breath.

* * *

It was love at first sight. I knew it instantly. All to myself, never to be shared with anyone else for as long as we were together. The perfect view of perfection.

My own hotel room. Right next door to my parents and sister, of course, but still all my own. I could have hugged them. I did, although my father's was just a smidgen more appreciative and drawn out.

I smiled slyly as I peaked out my window from behind the curtain, watching a group of physically well-off boys fooling around on the edge of the pool. Yes, this was heaven. Air conditioned, wireless Internet connected, full kitchen bearing heaven.

The door to my room shuddered, opening a moment later as I hastily jumped back from the widow, putting on a sloppy act of innocence. My mother stood in the threshold, sweeping the room with her eyes in disapproval. The single drawback to this havenous set up - the spare key confiscated by my parents.

"Charlie, didn't I tell you to unpack and get settled in? What have you been doing this whole time?"

Playing peeping-tom to the drenched young men outside, obviously. A more acceptable reply popped into my head readily.

"Just looking around," I brushed off, not feeling as guilty over the fib since it wasn't a fully blown-out lie. I was definitely looking, alright. She sent me a skeptical stare, dropping the matter momentarily with an exhale.

"Just make sure you finish up -or at least _start_- unpacking before we leave to get dinner. You father and I decided just hang here and explore the hotel tonight. Meet us outside in about half an hour so we can all go down together."

I played around with the idea of refusing, telling her I would skip the family dinner in the hotel's complementary food buffet to drift off on my own. I knew she would only reject the suggestion and start up another mess of trouble.

"Yeah, sure," I eventually settled, tone melancholy. I noticed peripherally as she nodded, turning her back and departing with a quite snap of the closing door. The sudden hushed silence was almost deafening. Defeated, I sauntered over to my suitcase, discarded to the side as soon as I had stepped into the room, and bent down to unzip it's contents to begin personalizing the space. I noticed another bag leaning up against the couch, this one adorned with ornate fluer-de-lis designs against a yellow and black background. I narrowed my eyes deviously, grabbing that container instead and pulling out my laptop and it's charging chords. I hurried to clear off the bed-side table, reaching over the mattress to plug the cable into the electrical outlet. Settling the portable computer in its place and starting it up, I glanced back towards the window. From this angle, I was pleased to see that the view wasn't marred at all. Maybe things would turn out alright around here after all. I beamed in accomplishment, logging in and searching for the wireless signal.

Unpacking - officially started.

* * *

I could have kicked myself when I realized the longest sleeved shirt I had packed was only a few inches. At the moment, I didn't care about how uncomfortably warm a hoodie would have made me: I just wished I could have the cotton cover. My arms had to be at least five shades lighter than even the palest of the other hotel guests (I didn't even want to compare myself with the native workers or consider the composition of less-exposed skin.) Even if I had had enough self esteem to wear a two-pieced bathing suit, I wouldn't have wanted to give a view of my egg-shell colored stomach. This was what I get for choosing the computer over New England's famous beaches.

Self-confidence at it's lowest, I slithered through the groupings of people and tried to keep an eye out for my path and familiar faces simultaneously. It would suck even more if I got lost in the dining room, of all places. I wondered if anyone would notice my wandering. For the first time in my memory, I was inexplicably happy with my sister's loud mouth: target found. I made my way over to our table, plate in hand, and slid into the free seat like I had been on their trail all along.

"That's all your eating?" my mother butted in as soon as I had settled, regarding the modest portions on my plate. I nodded distractedly, peering from the corner of my eyes to make sure there were no eavesdroppers.

"Yeah, I'm not that hungry. Still a little sick form the plane ride," I told her, scooping up some salad to end the conversation. I was starving, actually, but though it better to limit my intake. With the line of consumers behind me up at the serving table, I didn't want to hold it up for any of the others. Not to mention you never knew who was watching. What if one of the boys from the pool had seen me walking away with an over-flowing mound of food? I knew I could break into the candy stock I had packed in my suitcase when I returned upstairs. I could handle the unfulfilling vegetable meal for now.

After tutting her opinion and praising Saerik's growing appetite, my mom turned to her spouse, inquiring something about tomorrow's plans. I tuned them out instantly, knowing it would be of no interest to me. I would find out when it happened. People watching was more on my agenda for the moment. I was surprised, in the least, that not many of the inhabitants seemed to be from another culture at all. Nearly three quarters of the room were occupied with individuals who seemed to be of, or partly of, Portuguese descendants. It was enough to make the bland taste of lettuce turn sour. Surrounded by dark, copper skinned beauties.

I tuned my senses beyond the wall of glass, carefully taking in the pool area outside of the main lobby. With a window that big, I had no doubt that every inch of the grounds was within my sight. The pool was large, what looked to read two meters at the maximum depth and cozy hot tub jutting out from one of the bends. The concreted area was fenced off, lush green grasses making a decent sized field outside of the wall. A picturesque garden of blooming buds seemed to cover each shade of the color pallet at first sight. Further back, a gazebo stood in the epicenter, the statue of a man pinpointing its middle. I furrowed my brows, munching on another bite of cucumber, lost as to why they would think of erecting a sculpture in the middle of a gazebo. He must have been an important god, or one of the ancient explorers who claimed the land. I found it odd that they would praise their ancestors being taken over.

I choked, spitting out a glob of half-dissolved greens back into my plate. Shit, I had to be seeing things; The statue just **moved -**damn fast! I disregarded my mothers light shriek, Saerik's exclamation of "ew!" and my father's hand patting between my shoulder blades. I hurried to sputter out the remaining food, pulling my head up from the plate and brushing away the trailing saliva from my lips. I knew I wasn't seeing things. A boy was standing only a few feet away on the other side of the window now, eyes squinted in furious concentration as they swept across the length of the inner hall. I gaped, watching in awe as his steely-looking orbs seemed to fly through the room, studying each person's face with the swiftness of an automaton. Every one of his movements, in fact, seemed to relate back to some type of robot - the programmed scan of the crowd, emotionlessly rigid posture, and the barely traceable widening of the eyes and upward twitch of the mouth when he seemed to spot his target. I was confused as ever as he nodded to himself affirmatively, turning on the heels of his feet and walking away without another passing of a second. I leaned forward, almost wanting to cry out and call for him to wait. I tried desperately to keep him within sight as the bobbing of other heads got in the way, shifting around in my seat like a wrangled fly trapped in a spider's web. No way - it was too weird! I swear there had been a statue back there! But the gazebo was empty and the man walking away. It wasn't my imagination - I was so sure that he had even been _glowing _as the setting sun had hit his skin! Oh no, please don't tell me that shot was worth nothing at all! Had I already been infected by disease after only a few hours? Hallucinations? Really? I was going insane?

"Charlie!" my dad wheezed, voice sounding strangled as he held me in place. It was a needless motion in the next moment, however, when the boy froze in his steps, switching back around with the speed of a lightning bolt and instantly locking eyes with me. I gasped, hands snapping up to cover my mouth and eyes wincing shut. I had no idea why it called for such a reaction: it was just that, a reaction. I felt a fire cursing through my veins, organs withering with fluttering butterflies and mind going blank. This wasn't normal, I could distinguish that much. My limbs felt like goo, unconsciously settling and aiding my father in his task of holding me down. I slumped over in the chair, taking a deep, steadying breath before looking back up and out the window.

It was empty. No sign of life - not even a bird. He was gone. Maybe never there at all.

I ducked my head, fingers curling up into my palms. Man, this was what going crazy was like? Seeing beautiful men that aren't really there? What the hell kind of evil parasite was this that had taken me over?

"Charlie?" my father's relieving voice soothed, arms still holding my shoulders in a protective grip. I lifted my head, the act suddenly seeming like heavy weight lifting as I made a connection with my family. They (and every other person seated within a five table radius, might I add) stared in worry, looking as if they expected me to fall to the floor and seizure. I flushed, bringing my eyes back to the doilie beneath my plate and feeling the blood working it's way up to my face and ears.

"H-hunh?" I gurgled in response, knowing the answer didn't help to console their concern. I wished the others would look away - I could handle my family, but a room full of strangers was something else. Wasn't I worried about them thinking that I was a hog a little while back? I should have layered my plate with more food than I knew I could handle. Maybe then my attention would have been too occupied to look up for a single moment. I would rather them think of me as an American pig than an escaped mental patient.

"Are you alright? Charlie, what was that all about?"

I ignored him, the words not full processing. I stood, pushing back my chair and forcing my brain to disregard the numerous pairs of eyes following my movements. I kept my gaze to our private table, switching an intense stare between each of my companions.

"I'm...fine," I breathed out, hesitating for a moment. I could handle this myself. No need to involve them until I was seeing **them **as handsome men. "I think I'll just, uh, go upstairs. Tired..." I trailed off, mentally praising the excuse as I hurried away. I sensed my mother preparing to mimic the action, only ceasing at the will of my father.

"Is Charlie going to die?" Saerik asked, sounding only slightly more genuine than I would have imagined. I didn't care for listening in on the reply. I focused solely on making my way out of the densely packed chamber and back into the desolate hallways. Once that was accomplished, there was only the destination of room 304 in my mind. As the door slammed behind my back, I was immediately dashing for the window, stumbling along the way and ripping the curtains to the side for a clear view. I prayed for the ability of the boy's eyes, my own version of the action seeming to take twice as long.

There was no question. Completely devoid. Lifeless.

Huffing angrily, the only reasonable thought that passed through my mind was kicking the television stand. I did so, tears stinging my oculars in an after effect. I allowed rageous tears to flow, limping over to the bed and collapsing into the comforting cushions. The pillows caught my tears as I nuzzled in, burying my nose into the continuously re-used material. I could scream - I honestly wanted to. My willpower was over-ridden by sensibility, something I thought I had been parted with during dinner. I chuckled ruefully, shaking my head at the revelation. I had enough sense to not yell in a public hotel, but I could be attracted to a factitious, mobile statue? Oh, the irony.

Maybe I would wake up in Wonderland. I could only hope it was a better escape than the real world.

* * *

**(A/N) ****I need to start this story by saying that I am NOT one of those 'oh-my-Edward,' die-hard Twilight fans. The books are okay, but remind me more of just a decent Fanfiction you'd find on one of these sites rather than a Best Seller; not that I have much room to say, but I definitely don't think the series is worth all of the latest hype and attention. As an avid reader, I can honestly say it's nothing amazing and their is plenty of other published literature that far surpasses this fad. This story, however is dedicated to two of my real-life best buds, **Cabrak2815** and **letitgo23**, who are one of those who are obsessed in every sense of the word ;D I'll try my best with not letting any ill-feelings get in the way of my writing of this, although I can't promise too much...**

**Also, I know close to nothing about and have never been to South America. Anything I write will be based upon my own imagination and some George of the Jungle-like images. I apologize ahead of time for the lack of facts. And while I'm at it, I'm obviously no expert with Twilight either, so feel free to point out anything I'm not spot-on with in the department as well. **

**Now, now, I know people generally tend to hate anything Edwards/OC without the 'Bella' factor, but I hope you'll give this a shot! My plan is to follow along with the plot of New Moon when he's MIA in the book. There'll be no physical Bella, but only the memories and regrets Edward is carrying around for her. At this point after he leaves, I'm pretty sure he had every intention to never see her again, am I right? The story will follow that plot, but you won't have to worry about me completely changing the end of New Moon too drastically. To be perfectly honest and give away some plans for this fanfiction, I have no ideas that involve a happy ending to this story where Edward and Bella never meet again and he moves on with someone else. We'll just categorize this as a 'tragedy,' shall we? **

**Lastly, the story sort of goes along with the song** Sucker Love **by** Placebo.

**Erm, well... I guess that's all. Please tell me what you thought! **


	2. Charmed

**Sucker Love**

Chapter Two: Charmed

* * *

It was an expected happening during an exotic vacation, of course.

Rain.

No matter where the trip or how long the stay, at least one of our days had to be taken up by a storm of some sort. Either that or someone would be struck sick as a dog and unable to venture out, leaving the rest of the family to fend at their bedside out of loyal concern and prevent the enjoyment they could have found in the outside world. Despite any efforts to pray and hope for the best, it was an inexorable fate the followed us all the way around the world.

Even more ironic was that we had been presented with both occurrences.

"Are you sure you feel fine, Charlie? You were nearly green last night!"

"Yeah, I thought you were gunna puke all over the floor and pass out!"

"Saerik, don't talk like that! Humph, Charlie, we'll all stuck inside for the day anyway, so why don't you just stay in bed? Just to make sure? Maybe we can all go out and do something tomorrow if the weather clears up."

I sighed, my only consolation the fact that my parents had forbidden me from leaving the couch while they got breakfast and set up a small buffet on the bedside table for me. At least we were discussing things privately this time; I couldn't imagine having to show my face in front of the same eating crowd after last night. Now that I was in my right mind, I had thought over my reaction and mentally kicked myself. Why had I freaked out so much just because of a boy? I had seen them before -looked for and watched them avidly- and would most certainly see many more in my lifetime. Not at all a means for spazzing. I don't think I could stand the shame of letting myself be seen hanging around the hotel again after something like that. I vowed to never loiter around the building again. Disregarding the fact that that this was only the first official day of our stay and I would need to eat again sometime, it was a limited sliver of hopeful light I chose to cling onto.

"Yes, dad, I feel completely normal," I spoke through gritted teeth. Really, they were never so concerned about my health when we were home. The flu last year didn't even cause such a backlash.

My father raised a brow skeptically, heaving in defeat and rubbing his hand through his hair - or what was left of it. I was sure his forehead had nearly doubled in size if I cared to think back to his face in my farthest memories, the once thick onyx tresses now nothing more thinned salt-and-pepper peach fuzz. He adjusted the fashionable, rectangular black rims covering his eyes out of habit. My mother had decided (upon stealing a great health care family plan, apparently) that he needed to upgrade from the thin oval glasses he had previously worn. After hours of flipping through eye wear magazines (who would have thought such a thing actually existed?) and trying on pair after pair of lenses in the optometrist's office, the entire family were each owners of their very own glasses.

He was just the only one of us that actually wore them regularly.

Even behind the transparent planks, my father's darker-than-black brown orbs pierced my own, the only thing separating our gazes his visual aid. I tried my best to get the confirmation of a clean bill of health across the two steely gray eyes in my face. It must have worked as he sighed, facing his wife.

"Carrah," he ventured. "If she says she's alright, we shouldn't make her stay cooped up during the vacation. It couldn't hurt."

My mother, Carrah, tweaked a brow, first towards her husband before switching her reprimanding eyes to my bedridden lump.

"What exactly do you have in mind to do today? Anywhere special you're so eager to explore?"

I faltered, nibbling my bottom lip and fabricating a hasty answer to the unexpected question. I had no idea of the attractions in the area, besides what we had passed driving in from the airport.

"I dunno...there's a beach down the road, isn't there?"

My mother looked appalled at the suggestion and I realized my blunder instantly.

"The beach? It's _raining_, Charlie! You shouldn't be playing around when you're sick."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "I told you, Ma - I'm not sick! I am perfectly capable of walking down the street and sticking my feet in the sand without keeling over, dead."

She scowled at my caustic wording, arguing in the tone of a toddler, "Well, I don't want you to go. We should do something together inside."

"You don't have to come with me. I'm sixteen," I groaned, throwing my head back into the pillows and locking eyes stubbornly with the television screen. "I'm a babysitter, not baby**sat**."

"I don't want you going out alone, anyway," she continued wryly. "Do you realize that we're not even in the United States anymore? You can't just go out skipping through the streets!"

I blinked. Damn, I had forgotten that.

"Mommy! Mommy, I want to go to the beach! Hailey told me that she saw dolphins when her parents took her to Mexico! Will there be dolphins here? I love dolphins!"

Wincing, I shot Saerik an irate glare.

"You won't see dolphin from the shore. You'd have to go out on a boat or something to see them, if there even are any."

She pouted. "How would you know? Have you ever seen one in real life before?"

"Yeah, of course I have. You have all those stupid posters plastered on your wall."

"I said in real life!"

"Your wall's not real?"

"No! Well, yeah! But they're pictures! I meant in the water!"

"The pictures are of them in the water."

"_NO_!! I mean with your own eyes! **Not** in a picture!"

"Exactly - I haven't," I sneered in grim accomplishment. "You can't see them from the shore."

"Okay, okay! Girls, calm down!" our mother broke in, halting Saerik's counter attack with a hand to her shoulder. "Charlie, if you want to go to the beach in this overcast, then fine."

I mentally cheered.

"But you're taking your sister with you."

I mentally shot myself in the head.

"What?!" my voice cracked with rankling. "Mom, c'mon! How is that any better than going by myself? She's supposed to keep me safe?!"

"It has nothing to do with keeping you safe," she said haughtily. "Maybe this way you'll act more responsibly with your younger sister around to look after and she can make sure you don't run off or do anything stupid."

My jaw dropped. What kind of justification was that!? Did she honestly expect me to slip off the first chance I got - in a foreign country? I wasn't some expeditionist! I hated even going to the bathroom alone at school. Typical teenage girl: I needed a buddy for everything. No way would I even consider running off by myself.

I pulled lips together, pressing down to diflect the protests I knew would only make things worse if I were to make audible. Bitterly, I counted the tally in my head.

Mom: 2

Charlie: 0

* * *

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You _want_ me to hang myself. Is this because you want that stereo Gran sent me for Christmas? Jeez, you can have it if you promise to never make any sort of contact with me again..."

I shook my head, fully aware that I might have well been speaking to thin air. Even with my gaze ignorantly kept skyward (it wasn't much of a sight - even if the rain had stopped, heavy clouds weren't exactly entertaining), fists stuffed nonchalantly into the pockets of my cargos, I could still hear Saerik humming to herself, entirely oblivious to my ramble as she sauntered along the road. I scowled, ripping a hand from my shorts and rubbing it vigorously to my forehead. Heat, I could handle. Humidity was something entirely different. It was one of the reasons I had wanted to go to the beach in the first place: for the cooling breeze. I highly doubt I would be able to sink down into the sand with Saerik as a tag-along. She couldn't be trusted to settle quietly in one spot for more than seventy-five seconds.

The shore was just a bit farther off than I expected, taking us about twenty minutes worth of walking time before the dunes came into sight. Saerik awed, gasping excitedly and hurrying forward. I grit my teeth, wondering whether or not I should bother playing the 'responsible adult'.

"Saerik!" I called, pitch haggard. This was only half-hearted, after all; it wouldn't be any personal trauma if she got indefinitely lost. "Don't go too far unless you want to get eaten by giant sand spiders!"

She froze, spinning around with a frowning mouth but doubtful eyes. "Giant sand spiders? You're such a liar! There's no such thing!"

I grinned wickedly. "You know I'm not lying. We watched the Discovery Channel on the plane when they had that South American special, remember? Those wicked huge Trapdoor Spiders?"

Her brows furrowed in horrible recognition. "Y-yeah, but they lived in the desert!"

I fought to tone down the crazed smile taking over my face at her bravado. "True, they live in **sand**. But there are plenty of massive bugs around here because of the climate. Watch out - I heard they even have flying snakes, too."

I could have laughed at the sudden dread that shot across her face as she fidgeted, casting a glance overhead. I brushed past her, clenching my teeth as I climbed up one of the sand mounds. The off-shore winds were licking at my face within a moment, whipping salted air up from the distant ocean. The scent was somewhere between wonderful and nauseating - seaweed, salts, and the indescribable stench of the beach mixing together in the oddest of combinations. Scanning the water, I was pleased to see that my assumption about the land being empty was correct. Only one lone figure stood in the distance, waist high in water before diving down. I questioned the person's sanity for a moment until Saerik came bounding after me, gripping my elbow like her life line once she had caught up. I raised a brow, staring down at her in unpleasant wonder.

"What are you doing?"

She sniffed, looking up at me and fighting for control of a glare. "You were lying about the snakes and spiders, weren't you?" she demanded, covering up the fearful quiver with a rigged backbone. I smirked, ruffling her strawberry-blonde locks before shoving her away.

"Nope," I sang easily, pretending not to watch her squirm. "They're real and probably live somewhere around here in the jungles. As for a populated beach-side resort, I don't think you have to worry much."

She growled, running up to jostle me in the side before speeding past. "I hate you!"

And I smiled.

We traveled over the hill to the sand, pausing only to take off our shoes (Saerik had refused, saying she didn't want to get her feet dirty) before dragging ourselves down to the water's edge. There, our course changed perpendicularly to the side, walking along the mud.

All was silent, and I was astounded. Happy and relieved beyond belief, but flabberghasted. I hadn't know my little sister to ever be so quiet for such an extended period. I spied on her from the corner of my eye, finding her strangely pensive. Had I really scared her so much as to cause brooding?

"You shouldn't think so much," I sighed heavily, regretting breaking into the silence as soon as the slow, lazy words had left. "You're going to hurt yourself."

She barely reacted at all, biting her lower lip lightly. Despite our difference, a tinge of worry erupted in my gut. I sucked in a deep breath, knowing this was going to be a major blow to my pride in the future. "Look, I'm sorry for scaring you about the animals and stuff. Seriously, you have nothing to be afraid of. I was just kidding..."

I had expected her to gloat, throwing my apology back into my face like the immature brat that she was. But she didn't. I waited on baited breath, readying myself as she, finally, parted her lips.

"I saw that boy. The one last night that you were drooling over at dinner? He was standing outside the window, all alone."

It felt as if my blood had frozen it's flow, halting in my veins. Where had that come from? And more importantly, she had seen him, too? I wasn't imagining things?

She seemed to take my silence as a chance to go on. "He was glowing. His skin sparkled whenever the sun hit him."

I swear, I felt the blood pounding in my ears with every choking breath. What the hell was this? Why was I losing all of my sense? It was a hallucination from extreme fatigue - I had figured that out last night. Saerik was obviously suffering from the same disorder. Why did the subject bring such a pang to my stomach?

She turned her face to me, a small smirk making its way stiffly onto her lips. "I think you have a crush on him, and that's why you freaked out so much."

My eyes snapped open, wide and disbelieving. I was barely aware of the sudden dryness of my tongue. Did I hear that right?

"Wh...what? Erik, what are you talking about?"

I couldn't lie for beans, I knew. I don't think my fib could have been any more obvious unless I had just said 'I'm lying' aloud. Saerik picked up on that fact almost as soon as she could articulate herself and remembered it well.

"You know who I'm talking about," she said, nonchalance overexagerated. I pressed my lips together firmly, the tight, thin line forcing a heavy exhale to divert through my nose.

"You're crazy, Erik. The food just went down the wrong windpipe last night. There's nothing supernatural about choking."

"Liars go to hell," she stated easily, so much so I was caught between wondering if she knew the full meaning of her words. Instinctively, I swatted her shoulder.

"Don't say things like that, dork!"

Our family wasn't what most would call 'religious'. Sure, we went to church - every Christmas Eve with our grandparents. Other than that, life existed without Jesus by our side every moment. I had no real overbearing beliefs, personally. I wasn't exactly an atheist, but nor was I convinced and ready to profess my faith to the Lord. I saw nothing wrong with being a content medium as long as I respected both sides. I usually tried not to think about what exactly happens to your 'self' after death. The pondering usually scared the shit out of me.

I was terrified at the thought of dying - and knowing that, whether ready or not, I **would** face it.

Saerik pouted, rubbing her arm irritably. "But, it's true! Everyone says it."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, and people also say that Miley Cyrus is a good singer."

"Miley is a great singer! I love Hannah Montana!"

"She sounds like a strangled cat that just went through a sex change. Please, there are so much better things to watch on T.V. than that show. I admit it's not horrible, but I just can't stand looking at that wanna-be Britney Spears. Selena Gomez and Wizards of Waverly Place totally own that garbage."

She bit her scowling lip, clearly torn. "Both of them are really good..."

"Can't you listen to Demi Lovato? At least she can actually sing! Damn good, too. Not to mention she uses her real name and not some stupid fake one. I hope she gets her own show and knocks Hannah off the air."

It only then struck me that I was debating civilly about Disney Channel tweens with my younger, dweeb of a sister. Was this what my life had resorted too?

The unhappy huff from my side was enough of a response from Saerik. I continued our banter. "Anyway, back to the point - don't say 'hell'."

She startled, blindsided by the backtracking conversation. Eventually she blinked, smirk slithering into place. "Well then, don't avoid the subject yourself. What about that boy outside of the dining room window last night that made you look like a homo?"

I pulled my brows together, picking up on her final word as a distraction. Homo? I had been talking around her too much. Throwing the insult aside, I focused in on the purpose as a whole. I wasn't sure why, but there wasn't a single fiber in my being that was willing to openly discuss the occurrences of last night. I refused to admit that the apparition could have been real - it was only a mind game. I would forget of the happening as soon as humanly possible. The boy outside the window didn't exist and shouldn't be able to haunt me. I wouldn't let him, no matter how determined his spirit seemed to be. I still couldn't get him off my mind completely, and this talk wasn't helping in the least.

"See, that's the great thing about being oldest - I don't have to listen to you. Drop it, squirt. Just sit back enjoy this ever-so-lovely day."

We halted, letting the waves skim across our toes as we basked in the peaceful, though dark, ambiance. Saerik instantly flinched back, new sandals getting soaked through.

"Yuck!" she shrieked, sliding them off. "Why would anyone want to go in that water anyway? It's so cold and gross!"

I looked on, bemused. "Actually, not everyone is a scaredy-cat. A lot of people like swimming in real, open water, even when it's raining. There was a guy out here just as we got here, in fact."

Our eyes shifted in unison, scanning the calm waves of the bay. A full minute of silence must have passed between us, the water undisturbed all along.

"...I don't see anything," Saerik voiced, mint green orbs flickering across the surface. "Do you think he's alright?"

I sighed, stomach twisting into knots. Don't tell me I was seeing things again...

"Yeah, sure," I assured dimly, trying to convince the both of us. "He probably got out already and left without us noticing."

Saerik wasn't reassured. "Nu-uh! I would have seen someone else. He must have drowned!"

I blinked away the surprising bluntness of her declaration. "I don't think so, Erik. I'm sure they would have called for help or something if that happened. I doubt anyone's still out there anyway. Forget about it."

She growled in a chiding child-like way, stomping her foot to the shallow water. "No! I know someone's out there in trouble! Go find him, right now!"

My jaw dropped. What the hell was she thinking with that crazy demand? "You're completely insane! Not a chance. I'm not going diving in to look for someone I don't even know is there in the first place!"

My younger sister sniffled, horrified tears filling her eyes. "They could be dying!"

'_Probably already dead by now_,' I thought, unwilling to speak it aloud. I was baffled - why would she be worked up over someone she didn't even know? There was no proved reason to panic in the first place! Damned over-dramatic kids.

"You can't just leave them out there, Charlie!"

I stiffened, now genuinely terrified and melting at the sight of the trail of water dripping down her cheek. I felt the prideful walls braking down inside me, feet shifting uncomfortably. What would mom say if we came home and she was throwing this type of fit?

"...I don't even have a swimsuit on," I attempted feebly, quickly running out of options early in the game. Saerik brushed the defend aside easily, the desperate plea in her expression poking at my conscience like a pin to a balloon. Finally I groaned, turning to waddle deeper into the salted sea. I heard the child squeal behind me, calling out a finalizing, "Be careful!"

I rolled my eyes, squatting down to allow the icey waves to crash into my chest. The cold was the worst of this, dread taking the position of runner-up. Say I did, by chance, find a body floating around the bay floor - what then? What was I supposed to do? I didn't want to find a corpse!

The thought made my spine bristle, joints freezing in fear. A real life dead guy? No way. I didn't want to see one of those. There was no doubt that I couldn't come out of something like that the same. Saerik would be reassured with three minutes of search, tops. No more than that.

I shuffled nimbly through the water, hopping up as each wave came rolling in and hustling along between each peak. Water lapped up against my buffering frame, spraying mild splashes into my face and coaxing the clothing ruffling uncomfortably under the surface's depths. My mind wouldn't drift from the thought of feeling frigid skin on the bottoms of my feet each time I landed a step; every smooth, slimey rock sending a jolt through my limbs. I didn't remember ever being more terriied in my life; even Halloween Haunted Houses couldn't begin to compare. Breaths came out tremulous (a combination of nerves and body temperature), movements stiff and forced. I couldn't figure out why I was still going at this when ever ounce of me wanted to rush back to shore.

"Did you find anything?" Saerik's scream journeyed. I shuddered, shaking my head with a strangled sense of relief. Drenched tips of auburn hair whipped my face like bee stings, weighed down with liquid.

"Nope! There's nothing here, Erik. Trust me," I called back. The next words babbled out anxiously, eager for them to come true. "I'm coming back in now! No one's out here! See how stupid you were be- AAHH!!"

It happened just then, exactly as I had imagined it to play out. I stepped on something; something not a rock, sand or seaweed. It was a leg, if I wasn't mistaken, chilled and waterlogged. I gasped, horrified. The next wave crashed overhead without warning, forcing me down and under the surface depths. The instant rush of water in my ears was deafening. Like diving into a pool in premature spring, the crushing pressure of arctic-like waters engulfed and consumed, my body electrocuted with cold. I choked, the liquid substance filling my mouth and throat rapidly as my eyes snapped open. It was just like all those horror movies described - a sight so suffocatingly scary that you just couldn't look a away.

There he was, the eerily greened cadaver. The man's skin was pale as the dead, fittingly, but tinged grotesquely with the surrounding algae. A water colored smudge of copper tresses danced around his head like a halo, his very skin seeming to shimmer in the ocean's darkness. The boy was young, probably in his late teens, and frighteningly familiar. The pain of asphyxiation was fuzzy in the back of my mind, but I managed to place him instantly. The realization of his identity pushed the last of the oxygen from my lungs.

Just like our last encounter, his eyes suddenly pried open, gaze flashing to meet mine just as all sense was lost.

* * *

**(A/N) Okay, just in case anyone cares, I've been brainstorming a few idead I have for another Twilight story. This time, I'm giving the werewolves some love! Any preference as to which one?**

**And on another note, just in case anyone is wondering about Saerik's name (which I totally just pulled out of my ass when I was trying to figure out what to name the little sister) it's pronounces like 'S-air-ik.' You know - basically, take the name 'Eric' and add an 'S' infront of it. I probably should have put that in the first chapter, but...**

**By the way, with each review I get, one dollar is donated to the 'Save Forks High School' fund. The building that Steph Meyer had dearest Edward and Bella meet and fall in love is about to be knocked down, if you haven't heard. How it's not a landmark with all these crazed girls worshiping Twilight is beyond me.**

**...Okay, maybe I lied about the donation thing. I don't care THAT much. But that doesn't mean you still shouldn't review! Or donate to saving the real-life condemned Forks High. Or both :D Multi-tasking is fun! **


	3. Come Undone

**Sucker Love**

Chapter Three: Come Undone

* * *

I heaved, bolting up and to the side in an instantaneous reaction. The frigid pressure on my mouth was lifted at the act, my hacking coughs sputtering out a fountain of water. The feeling was indescribably awful - my throat dried and scratched from the ocean's raw salt forcing itself up my esophagus. The sodium contents made my stomach sickeningly ill. I was struck with panic at the though of really vomiting, rather than just bringing up water.

I gulped in air between each regurgitating breath, my insides feeling like they were turning themselves inside-out while my mind struggled back into clearer focus. A hand rubbed along my spine, the feeling itself nothing strange after such an incident as nearly drowning. No, the aid wasn't unremarkable: it was the unfamiliar size and composition of the palm. It had only been me and Saerik on the beach, unless someone else came while I was preoccupied. Well, there was the dead boy...

I stared over my shoulder, head rocking with my heavy breaths. Rusted gold, ivory white. Oh, wonderful. The dead boy was bringing me back to life. How fitting.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned face still jolting through my vision. I didn't answer. I was too preoccupied with ogling. Damn, he was even more gorgeous up close. That night at a fifty foot distance did him no justice, none at all. Was it possible for a man to be so wholesomely handsome? Even Teddy Geiger didn't look this good - or even sound this good, now that I thought about it. Why had I even liked his music again? I used to think he was attractive, didn't I?

"You're hyperventilating," the talking corpse observed, movements becoming more focused. The patting became trailing, fists helping my body back into homeostasis. I regained myself reasonably enough, wrangling in air like a Hungry-Hungry-Hippo until exhalation became a normal occurrence. My body steadied, shoulders no longer wrenching with each gasp and sight coming in without the turbulence. Yep, it only made thing worse - now I thought the zombie was hotter than William Beckett. I would have never thought such a thing could happen; I usually didn't like blonds at all. Everything about the cadaver was paled: skin, hair, eyes - all colorless. It was something I would have pictured to be so boring, the man plain and unremarkable. He had flipped the theory, morphed my beliefs and thrown them into the abyss; a complete paradox. It left me to think only 'William who?' A pale blond boy should have never done such alternating damage to my perception.

Oh, yeah. And he was dead. Deceased. Passed on. _Not alive_. That should have been my number one concern.

"Are you alright?" the young man repeated. Young - I wondered if the description was accurate. How long had he been dead? His body was still (wondrously) intact. He couldn't have been so old to have been waiting in the ocean's depths for long. There was no erosion on his skin at all, no barnacles or fish-nibbled flesh. Just the same as me, only three shades lighter. If I wasn't so concerned over such aberrant events, the fact would have thrilled me beyond belief.

The knuckles left my back, joining their double as both hands came up to cradle my cheeks. The chill of his moistened skin left a bolt coursing through my veins. I couldn't grasp that I was disgusted the corpse's touch - the enjoyment overbore squirms. He made a professional work of rubbing below my eyes with his thumbs, caramel orbs narrowed in concentration. Sea water trickled down from my hair line, curling straight over my lips and falling onto my tongue. The bitter-sweet taste rivaled the feeling in my gut as five fingers and a palm left my left cheek, instead flashing before my gaze in a wave.

"Can you understand me?"

God, he sounded like freakin' angel. He probably was one. It would only be practical.

I wasn't sure what made me do it. It just blurted out. Why, I didn't know. Not a clue. "You're dead."

If I had been myself -thinking straight- I would have smacked the blabbering twit across the face. Really, could I have said anything more obvious? Simply gurgle out something so dim-witted to the spirit boy, Charlie. He won't mind. He's probably heard worse form all those senile old seniors in Heaven. He had most likely come down to earth to get away from it, resorting to the bottom of the surface for silence. Or maybe he hadn't even gotten the chance. He had only just stopped breathing when I found him, body still an amateur at the whole 'not living' routine. He had halted his afterlife to save me from one. What a perfect fairy tale. Not for the faint of heart, but a prime story aimed at love-struck teen girls eager for a romance novel. Any simple boy and a girl were too average. No one wanted something that could plausibly happen. Add in a supernatural element, heroically unrealistic characterization and you have a top seller. The kind of fantasy everyone one wants to read about because they know it will never happen outside of their dreams.

Damn, the dead boy was making me morbid.

His reaction, I figured, was everything and nothing like I had expected it to be. Granted, with such a random outburst I hadn't really predicted the effect, but if I _had _though it out... well, this was it and it's reciprocal.

Nothing. A solid mass of unaltered stone.

He was making me think I was crazy. Insanity was something I had been sarcastically juggling since our first sighting the night before. It had never crossed my mind so honestly as it was now.

He sighed, voice taking on a patient hardness. "You must still be recovering from the accident. Your brain hasn't replace all the oxygen yet for it to be working properly."

I shook my head, positive and dubious. "No, I saw you. You were under there -under water- for ten minutes, at least. You dived in as soon as I came into the beach and never came up again. You were just sitting underwater when I found you...you were meditating or something, I swear! Lounging there until I stepped on you and you opened your eyes..."

He retained the marble mask. "No, I'm sorry. You're mistaking the memories. It must be the shock of it all messing with you."

I was speechless. This was too much. A normal vacation was too much to ask for, wasn't it? I had to be stalked by an Adonis ghost who finds entertainment in dragging me along on a string. Why wouldn't he just admit it? Damn it, I _knew_!! No one, unless some genetically altered, engineered form could possibly be THAT perfect in appearance. There wasn't a single thing off about him (accept for his lack of life). I could look past the icy snow skin and purpled under-eye bags like nothing. Even as he was soaking wet, I could easily imagine the bronze hair wind swept in the ocean breeze. Why did he have to be so infuriating!?

He went on, my crazed expression probably calling for a deeper explaination. A dead man has nothing to hide, after all. Or so they say.

"I was underwater when you found me, yes. I was just swimming and enjoying the day. Rain is the best time to go for a swim, you know; No other people and usually a moderate temperature. You must not have noticed me coming up for air between dives. I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused, but thank you for coming in after me. That was extremely brave of you."

I awed. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with _me_? You know what, screw it! I didn't care anymore - this was it. Too much. So what if the boy was dead? I wasn't, and that should be good enough for me. Guardian or bystander, he had saved my life. It was more that I ever could have asked from a complete stranger. The immediate question of his life force wasn't the appropriate thanks at all for such a monumental action. Who knows what he had gone through? He must have been telling the truth about my stupid assumption - why had I ever believed I was really being touched by an angel? The poor kid had to have been swimming, taking full advantage of the empty surf before I had come barreling in on his solitary joy. Drag a girl out of the waves, pull her up to land and bring her back to reality, and the first thing she does is insist you were some kind of ghoul? It wasn't very gratifying, obviously.

He stared at me for a long moment, hair partly matted over his unwavering caramel orbs. The intensity pierced through me like a bullet, breath catching in my throat and joints stiffening. The intimidation factor was sky high; I felt like flopping belly-down right there in surrender. Unable to let myself fall completely down to that level, my vision slowly lowered to the sand, white flag mentally waving. It was just too much right now: I needed to worry about myself first. Never mind choking in a room full of people: that was nothing. Nearly drowning and having to be saved by the very boy who had caused you to swallow food down the wrong pipe in the first place? Priceless. Accusing the boy of death only seconds after waking up; he might as well have left me to Davey Jone's Locker. Why couldn't one of us have really passed on? I would never have to go through such a mortifyingly embarrassing experience again and he wouldn't be here to cause and witness them. Win-win.

My eyes came back up as the tension settled slightly, curiosity too persistent to be overshadowed with caution. The boy was still on edge, fingers etched into the muddy sand beneath our resting place and jaw tight. He was uncomfortable, clearly, but not quite malevolent enough to halt my tongue.

"Who are you?"

I couldn't help but feel that it was my first logical comment within his company. Apparently, the spell was wearing off. The universe falling back into place along with us. No more blurting out thoughts - it would all have to be careful considered if I wanted to make a decent enough impression to keep me out of a mental hospital.

He hesitated, lips parting only just slightly. I understood his deliberating now - was it really the best decision to give your name to a girl who was clearly insane? I wouldn't be surprised at all if he chose to simply pass on the enquiry and pretend as if none of this had ever taken place. It would be a disappoinment, surely, but I couldn't blame him. I was a psycho. I would have already been off of the beach if I were in his shoes, no matter how run down by dead water weight sinking my clothing.

"Edward," he uttered, tone somewhere in between a utilization of gentle guessing and cautious suspicion. I merely nodded at the addressment, absorbing the name into memory. It was fitting, oddly. Not 'Ed' or 'Eddie', but Edward. Classic. A real, good county boy name, like one of those old Western movies. I could imagine him as a plantation owner's son, dressed in a button-up cotton shirt and dark slacks, rolling up his sleeves as he worked. The way he held himself, the natural aura - it all just screamed 'turn-of-the-twenty-first-century-gentleman.' The kind of guy you could count on to pick you up and carry you over a rain puddle, provide for your every need dotingly, and stand by your side with more rewarding loyalty than a Golden Retriever. Astonishing. The kind of guy they just didn't make in society anymore. The reliable ones. Bring home to the parents like a model teddy bear. Sweet, gentle, caring and sturdy. I already knew he was one of them.

His lips twitched slightly, eyes darkening to a bitter brown. I raised a brow in question, but kept my thoughts to myself. He had gotten enough pestering from me to last the both of us a while. The quality of my blunder was more than Saerik had ever bothered me with. Dead? I had actually told him that? Said it aloud? I was such a dweeb, honestly. He deserved to be left alone after this.

I cleared my throat, trying to keep the noise down with the silence that had passed. Well, here it goes. Now or never. Would he stay or would he go.

"I'm Charlie," I voiced, noticing that my vocal chords sored painfully with the rasping articulation. I winced, almost missing the flashing second when his eyes had widened in shock before falling down into an even more pronounced narrow. It took me aback. It couldn't have been a reaction to my name alone - plenty of people had given me strange faces, but nothing that drastic or wry. What was going on with the two of us? Our entire interaction was based on unlikely and unexpected occurrences. Were we both really such freaks?

He blew out sharply through his nose, the action borderlining a snort. "Charlie, you said? That's your name?"

I nodded dumbly, thinking it better not to speak up and out of turn. No matter how sculpted his features, there was just something about the look in his eyes that had begun to rub away on his innocent persona. The demeanor of him was changing visibly, breaking away at the sheepish veneer to bring out the wolf.

He smiled tightly, bringing his head up abruptly to catch my eyes with his. The back of my throat dried, tongue sucked devoid of all moisture. Was this normal? Should any individual be able to have such an affect on another human being? Magical or not?

His eyes tendered only slightly, darkness still unrelenting as he settled down in the sand by my side. It was the first time I had ever stopped to notice our surroundings, actually. Now that he had brought my attention to it, I suddenly felt bashful at the idea of laying sprawled out on the beach, whole form thoroughly soaked through to the bone in wild water and sand molded into my clothing. I sat up slowly, awkwardly, giving us a more relatively equal height and hoping to grant me a bit more dignity. The spandex-like tightness of my attire to my skin, however, ensured the opposite. I shivered involuntary, half from the sheer confrontation and partly from the wind cooling the dripping water drops on my arms. I took to rubbing to exposed flesh in hope of alleviating some of the restlessness whirling in my tummy.

He sighed, somehow managing to make the simple motion urbane. His vision was once again lifted to cross mine, leaving me bobbing along on cloud nine. "Charlie..." he drifted off, stimulating me to pounce on him. I didn't, of course, but couldn't hold back from leaning forward just a bit. Why did he have to drag off my name like that? Did he have any idea how torturous that was?

Our eye contact was broken as he flickered his amber oculars towards the darkened clouds before plummeting his sight down to his skeletal fingers. "I used to know a Charlie, you know," he confessed, sounding forcefully lethargic. I noticed as he fiddled with a waterlogged shoelace, taking that as a sign he wouldn't be elaborating on the insight. I gulped, trying to get some fluid into my mouth.

"A friend of yours?" I managed harshly, voice nearly giving out half way. I would have flinched at the unplanned squeak if I wasn't so focused on trying to articulate normally. His façade didn't crumble, remaining just as apathetic as he could manage while looking downward. He couldn't hide the vinegary smirk pulling up on his lips' corners, though.

"Not exactly," he bit, voice caustic. "I wouldn't imagine he likes me very much at the moment, not that I could blame him."

I made a noise in the back of my throat of acknowledgement, not sure of how to take this. We had only just met. Should I really be prying like this? Why were we even talking? What the hell were we doing just sitting here chatting after everything we had just gone through? Was this just me being irrational - the demented connection between us was just part of my delirious mind? It was one-sided, wasn't it? I was the only one to feel the deranged order of events. Sitting on the beach carrying on a conversation with a possibly deceased stranger wasn't so wacky after all, apparently. He seemed content with it.

I would have given a mind reader a migraine. Thousand of topics zipped across my mind like pin balls, some tidbits only partially formed and others so complex I couldn't even grasp them. There was just something about this that was so off. This wasn't right! We should be panicking and calling for help, not lounging around making idle chit-chat. I should have been weary of an unknown man, not wishing to move in closer. Not desperately thinking of some kind of conversation starter to bring up, keeping him here and entertained longer. What was he waiting for in the first place? He could have walked away already if he had wanted - after I had said I was fine. Did I tell him that? That I was fine? Maybe not. I wasn't about to now, either. It would keep him near. Was that horrible and selfish of me? Probably. We had both undoubtedly established that I was a loser, so what was the point of holding it back now? I could go full out - just jump him right here. Claim some form of Tourette Syndrome. I wouldn't know any better.

I concentrate on that last thought solitary. Yeah, and then go to Hell. What was I thinking?! He wasn't worth such a terrible thing! I peered over slyly, biting my bottom lip. Was he?

His gaze redirected, focusing on an unseen point over the dunes.

"I have to go" he spoke, words unnoticeably hushed. The next moment he was on his feet, hands forced into sodded pockets. He looked down at me, smiling almost genuinely at my expression of perplexity. I became aware of my jaw, unhinged and gaping. I brought it up. Anymore time around him and I'm sure I would actually lose my mind or die - whichever came first.

"Try not to develope any sudden disorders while I'm away."

And just like that he left, sauntering along the sand. I wanted to call out and stop him, the urge bubbling in my stomach. What was I supposed to say? 'Stop', 'don't go', or 'will I ever see you again'? As if I hadn't already been enough of a nerd around him already.

"Charlie!!"

My neck snapped, doing a 180 degree turn towards the same sand mounds Edward had been so interested in. There were two people running down - wait, three. Two adults and a smaller girl, the latter trailing at a distance; all dashing furiously across the sand like someone was drowning.

Shit.

"Charlie Katherine Gallagher! What the hell were you thinking!? Are you alright?!"

The fuss wasn't helping - I felt nauseatingly sick as soon as I had identified the pedestrians. My mother was the first to reach me, collapsing to the ground and spitting a wave of sand straight into my face. I winced viciously, eyes blinking out the minute grains erratically. I heard her gasp, hands taking hold of my face and pressing down on my cheeks like a garbage compressor. Was she trying to help? Could have fooled me. I wanted Edward back to nurse, no competition.

"Bryce! She's completely bloodshot! When will the ambulance get here?!"

Somewhere behind the incredulousness, annoyance, and burning pain, her words jabbed at my brain fearfully. Ambulance? What?

My father was by her side on his knees in the next second, panting laborously and carefully prying his wife's fingers from me, a sense of urgency in his movements.

"They'll be here in a minute, Carrah. I can already hear them now."

In that moment that followed his silencing words all three of us tuned in, forcing our ears into focusing in on the shrill siren steadily growing in volume. I shivered, stiffening. Ambulances meant medical attention. Medical attention meant the hospital. Hospital meant the nether world. A foreign purgatory where I couldn't be sure English was a spoken language or if sterile headquarters and equipment were heard of in the practise.

"Mom! Dad! I'm totally fine! Completely! I don't need an ambulance!!"

They exchanged a pointed look just as the vehicle pulled in, red lights flashing and bulldozing forward at full speed.

Edward would save me; he'd tell them I really was fine. I groaned out a whine, squinting off in the direction he had been heading only to meet a desolate beach.

Gone like the wind.

* * *

The got me. Wrangled me into the back of the truck like a shark bite victim. I was fine. Not in lethal danger. I tried to tell them.

They didn't speak English. I shouldn't have expected anything less.

And so here I sat over an hour later, propped up under scratchy sheet on a mushy mattress, identification bracelet on one writs and I.V. poked into the other. More needles was just the sprinkles on top of the cake. I would need to just stab myself blind and avoid these situations. No eyes, no cute boy distractions.

"Como ê?"

"Como você se chama?"

"Que menina tão querdinha!"

I could only huff and lean back into my pillows, not having a clue what the obvious cooing meant. It wasn't as if they were talking to me - the nurses were surrounding Saerik. My younger sister just grinned charmingly, pretending to absorb their words and munching away on the chocolate they had handed her. It's not like I had wanted any, of course. Nope, the girl sitting here in the patients' cloth dress with tubes running through her arms didn't need any comfort at all, thanks. Just ignore her. Spending the night in a Brazilian hospital wasn't so bad. I wasn't upset about needing to be observed after coming close to drowning. There was the possibility that I could be released tomorrow if the water in my lungs and salt contents clear out soon enough. I didn't mind that every crappy T.V. station was in Portuguese. It was the closest local hospital - not accommodated for foreign guests. No problem.

No chocolate for me, thank you, Ladies.

The older women cleared out, leaving me to mope and Saerik to to look up at me from her seat, smiling merrily like this was some sort of carnival trip for her. Candy residue was wedged between her still growing teeth. She was ready to leave at any moment, having no obligation to remain locked up.

Yeah, I was bitter. Sue me.

"You look mad," she observed brilliantly, sucking and wiping the sweets from her gums. "I'm sorry I ran to get mommy and daddy, but I was afraid and couldn't think of anything else to do."

I sighed, grudging to admit that it really wasn't her fault I was here. Even if she hadn't been the one to pressure me into taking that fateful swim, the guilt would have eaten away at me. What if there had been a dead body or dying soul and I had just walked on by? The 'what if's' would have been unbearable. At least I had been granted another run-in with the heavenly cherub of a man. It was almost enough for me to keep from feeling choleric.

"It's fine, Erik. You did the right thing. It's mom and dad's fault for jumping to conclusions."

Wrong. They had done the right thing, too. As we spoke they were out filling out medical forms while struggling over the language barrier, stressing out and worrying over my health conditions. Why did my family have to be so virtuous? Edward would fit right in.

Saerik smirked, hopping from her seat and placing hands to her hips. I raised a brow, putting up an blandly interested front.

"I know what will make you feel better! I'm gonna go look for that boy you like that made you choke! I'll find him and have him come visit you!"

I could have shot her. Or myself. He was the entire reason I was here! I didn't want to see him again.

Ergh, no, wrong again. I wanted to see him more than anything. I was the sinful liar of my celestial family.

"Yeah, sure Erik," I grunted, unwilling to share the day's full experience with her. It's not like she would actually find him and drag him over anyway.

Saerik nodded determinedly, turning away on her heels and skipping from the curtained confinements. "M'kay! See you soon! Get better!"

I watched her leave, wishing it could be me just walking away like that so freely. I would even skip if I was blessed enough to not be what I was now - a patient. I was overcome with an entirely new appreciation and respect for long-term patients. I couldn't even think about the terminally ill; it would be far too depressing on my spirits. Wasn't I supposed to keep my chin up to recover? Be hopeful and cheery? It was difficult - practically impossible. This had to be the least joyful state I had ever been. The surroundings, the smell, the internal debates - not comforting.

I pressed a button on the remote control, thankful for the large scenes playing as directions rather than words. The bed head sunk down, leaving my body level and staring up at the cieling. There was nothing else left to do - not a single thing. I could simply lay here and think. Always drifting back to the same subject over and over, no matter how detoured I tried to become.

Saerik was wasting her time: Edward had stayed with me since our very first eye contact and was unlikely to ever leave.

* * *

**(A/N) O.o I don't know Portuguese!! I'm sorry if I slaughtered the language. I borrowed my lovely friend Cabrak2815's Portuguese book to look up a few things and she helped me out :) Round of applause for her! **

**No one would probably notice, but Charlie's middle and last name were taken from the movie Superstar's awesome protagonists! Kudos to LetItGo23 for coming up with that one. Bryce (her dad) is named after The Rocket Summer's seriously amazing founder/singer/lyricist/musician...he's pretty much everything XD**

**Rape Edward- oops, I meant rate! Erm, review, in Fanfiction terms. Hehe, who would want to rape Edward???**


	4. Prone to Cling

**Sucker Love**

Chapter Four: Prone to Cling

_

* * *

_

_'387, 388, 389, 390, 391, 329, 293, 294...wait. That's not it. What number am I on? Crap! Lost count...'_

Imperfection and error - the story of my life.

I remember back in fourth grade when bragging about how many tiny dots in the ceiling tiles you could count while you should have been paying attention to the teacher was somehow considered cool. I had never felt more lame in my life for doing it now, sprawled back in my hospital bed.

In truth, the test of my counting ability wasn't a desperate attempt at quenching my popularity needs at all - it was a distraction. Not from the completely dull aura seeping in from every crack, but from Edward. I knew how stupid it sounded, believe me. Getting so hung up on a guy whose deepest shared secret was that he had know someone with my same name? I was a complete fan-girl. Totally shallow. I was only seeing the pretty face and mysterious persona; there was no in-depth connection between us that could justify these feelings or this obsession. I was just some brainless twit drooling over Robert Pattinson: The Untouchable. Like trying to reach out and tickle the moon. Pointless.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he had saved my life (no matter if he had been the cause of the risk). It could have just been simple admiration fueled by his unparalleled charm. Lighting fluid - that was the definition I would use for his physic. The lighting fluid escalating my charcoal fire past the point of practicality. If there I had been less lighting fluid, I wouldn't have been so flaming and out of control; not so handsome, and I could forget him much easier. He was the gasoline to my struck match? Well then, I'd better hurry up with getting past this state of dwelling - the two of us didn't go well together at all. Danger was ominous and inexorable.

_"That boy you like that makes you choke_," I quoted in my head with a sarcastic smirk. Searik's wording was perfect. A thorned rose. Comparing a man to a flower would have probably been a mocking gesture before I had come across Edward, but this time it just made him seem all the more desirable.

If he hadn't been so confusing, that was.

I'd had endless hours (in reality, probably only about ninety minutes) to sit here and think about it. I guess I had been too mesmerized at the time to notice how everything was so put of place - a few things weren't adding up. I knew I should have just dropped it: I would never see him again, and so this debating was unnecessary. A waste of time if there ever was one.

But damn, I sure did have a lot of time to waste. And wasn't that excuse a little old? 'I would never see him again'? It sounded all too familiar.

A few key points remained suctioned to my brain: mainly, the fact that the kid could hold his breath for ten minutes and act so detached about it afterwords. Yeah, I know - been there, done that; I'd already deliberated and exhausted this subject. But that didn't make it any less relenting.

There was something else he had said back there; his last words before (almost literally) disappearing.

_"Try not to develop any sudden disorders while I'm away."_

What was that? Where did it come from? Random, much? Thinking back on it now, a shiver dashed across the length of my body, lingering on my fingertips like a winter frost as the beeping of my heart monitor quickened.

I had been thinking about my symptoms at some point - I satirically suggested in my mind to feign disease in order to get physically closer to him. I had only thought that, hadn't I? It wasn't a verbally interactive plan open for input. But how else could he have hit the nail straight on the head with a comment so relevant? It only made sense that my thoughts weren't as safe as I had always believed. The boy was reading my mind.

I clicked my tongue, huffing loudly and rolling over onto my side with the crinkling of starch sheets. Why was I going on about this again? The trail of fantasy explanations? Because really, the odds of running into some kind of legitimate Rex Sikes was pretty high. It had to be that, obviously.

Not. No way, no how.

Was it really so hard for me to settle that the boy was just so genuinely charming? There was no possibility, it was seeming, that there wasn't a supernatural element involved in all of this. It couldn't have been normal abnormality. He was nothing less than Batman, apparently. Bruce Wayne in the flesh.

I groaned, flipping back to lay on my spine restlessly and taking careful consideration to not aggravating the tube jammed into my wrist pumping me with fluids. This had to be the most frustratingly furious state I had ever found myself bottled in with (which was definitely saying something with a kid sister like Saerik). What the hell was going on? I could feel the blood coursing vigorously through my veins, tension in my very bones just begging to be released in my best attempt at a punch. Come on: a gorgeous, brave, kind and protective god that just so happens to cross paths with me and make some kind of eternally unbreakable connection? Please, I haven't bought into fairy tales since I was five. The idea was ludicrous - laughable. Any one who had graduated from the fifth grade should have know better and left those kind of ideas in elementary school.

The sigh escaping form my lips barely registered, eyes trained into a stubborn daydream focused on the ceiling. I though back to everything that had happened since stepping off of the plane, each moment imprinted inexplicably. I had a feeling that none of this would have happened if it hadn't been for Saerik. The beach, of course, had been her fault. Without her persistance, I would have never been given the chance to speak with Edward at all, most likely. I wouldn't be suffering (mentally, mostly) in the hospital. I wouldn't be so confused and over-analysingly philosophical.

Should I thank her or strangle her? I couldn't decide. If the action hadn't landed me in this medical nether world, the initial humiliation of my and Edward's official meeting would have been easily overlooked. What was it she had said before she left - the main idea of it?

"_I know what will make you feel better! I'm gonna go look for that boy you like that made you choke! I'll find him and have him come visit you!"_

Oh, Lord. Please, no.

Please, yes.

Maybe...maybe not...

Just shoot me. I'm begging you.

What would I do if she actually found and dragged him here? Damn, I didn't even want to think about it! Like I hadn't been enough of a freak to go diving into the bay in search of a drowned corpse, why doesn't he just come and see me playing the damsel in distress, crying over a little throat and stomach discomfort? I probably looked like hell - completely miserable and disheveled. It wasn't so mortifying, though. Not really. Why should I be ashamed about my banshee resemblance in the presence of an angel?

My teeth grit, grinding together with enough force to chip as my head was thrown back into the pillow. My fingers curled into the bedding, fabric become wedged under overgrown nails. I had to stop this - I was literally driving myself crazy with all of this thinking. I was about to scream if I kept leaning towards those kinds of thoughts. Was this why Puritans back in those days discouraged females from having individual thoughts? They just knew something like this was going to happen; they were smart, not assholes. There was no conclusion to be made here; it didn't matter. Whether he was a mutant or miracle, fictional prince or dream come true, one time acquaintance or soon-to-be soul mate, I shouldn't care. Not this much. A stranger wasn't worth it. I had to at least know his last name before he should be granting me relentless, nagging brain attack.

I snorted, squeezing my eyes shut at the resolution. Edward, used to know a Charlie, can supposedly hold his breath for as many minutes as any other person would turn to sea food, bipolar, oddly laudable - that was all I knew about him. This contemplation wasn't justified at all. I was an obsessive lunatic.

I pulled my eye lids open, glaring fiery holes into the ceiling tiles. I needed something other than copper-haired ghosts to take up my time. This wasn't getting me anywhere. The stress wasn't helping me to get out of here any sooner. If I wasn't relaxed and recovering, they would keep me here even longer. I couldn't put up with anymore silence. I needed more distractions.

I sighed. There wasn't much other choice.

__

'1 ,2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8...screw it.'

So much for that.

I fumbled around with my left hand, finding the remote control with my finger tips and dragging the device towards me. I aimed for the television, watching perfunctorily at the moving pictures and intelligible babble. Noise was good. I couldn't concentrate with noise. I could try to learn a bit of Portuguese while I'm here - it would be useful. This would be just like watching the Spanish channel at home and making up my own scenarios to fill in the dialogue. Piece of cake. It could be fun.

I had actually started to get into after a minute, too. With the volume all the way up, I configured that Edwarda (what the hell kind of name was that for a girl anyway?) was cheating on her jerk of a 'significant other' Luiz. The other man was Edwardo (Really, Edwarda and Edwardo? Could it get any more gag worthy? The character name choice certainly wasn't helping me get a certain other someone with an 'Ed' name out of my head, either), whom had an atrocious caterpillar mustache. The story was reaching it's climax (I assumed, in my imagined plot where Edwarda would be plagued by her unfaithful guilt and jump into an active volcano to escape) when one of the nurses walked in, her face nothing that I could imagine would read as happy in any nation.

"Acalmar-se, menina estúpida!"

I raised a brow, nodding blankly. What the hell had she just scolded me for? I didn't figure it was something nice from that face and tone. Plus, I wasn't such a dimwit as to miss the 'estupida' remark: I knew what that one meant. Was she trying to insult me?

She must have understood my dilemma, rolling her eyes and prancing haughtily over to my bed. I nearly flinched, not knowing her intentions (was it legal to physically abuse other people in Brazil?). She snapped up the remote control from my bedside, pressing down on the volume until the hysterical cries of Edwarda's broken heart of betrayal were barely heard. I peaked my gaze open wider as she turned, my lips frowning as she strolled out of my room without a second glance. How rude.

Well, there goes that distraction. With nothing better left with to occupy time, my sight reverted to the wall above me. Maybe third time was the charm. Counting tile dots should be tedious enough to keep my memory occupied.

Not twenty seconds later, and all I could see where millions of topaz eyes replacing all of the ceiling's infinite punctures.

I cringed, blocking the vision with my good (uninjected) arm. I tried to brainstorm, bringing up some kind of alternate brain-twister. My leg taped to an invisible beat anxiously, head whirling. Eventually, like some kind of involuntary hypnotic, I lost track of all thoughts as the universe began to settle. There was vague, blurred trees and a sheer cliff. I was walking along, quite and content, before my foot slipped and I fell over the edge.

My body jumped, eyes snapping open. I gasped, biting my lips and wishing the shivers away. I hated those almost-asleep-falling-off-mountain dreams. What a pain, waking you wide just as your about to pass over into the darkness of slumber.

And just like that, I experienced an epiphany. Sleep. It was so simple, so perfect, that it just might work. Go to sleep so nothing else would happen. It was like giving up, only a natural form. A temporary suicide to leave behind problems. Ideal route, in this case.

An so, with more concentration than I had ever added on with a daily occurrence, I fell asleep.

* * *

"Hey, Charles, wake up! I brought you a present! C'mon, don't you want to see it? He took me forever to find!"

I almost growled. It was that annoying little she-devil my parents had produced as I was growing up. What the hell was she thinking? I was sleeping, damn it! I don't think I could open my eyes if I tried: my lashes felt so heavy I wasn't sure if I'd have enough strength to bring them up. The space between the two oculars pounded, leaving me to wonder if I had ever been at peace at all - I didn't feel refreshed or rejuvenated in the least. I felt horrible; much worse than before. Wasn't this prison supposed to be making nursing me back to health?

"Charlie, get up already! Just open your eyes and see who I brought for you!"

Who? She had brought in a person? Who the hell would be a familiar surprise to see in a foreign hospital where we knew next to no one? Oh, wait. She had mentioned going out to look for Edward before she left so she could cheer me up with a visit. That's right. It must be him.

A better, more thought out and less traumatizing reaction wasn't in existence as I bolted up from my position like an awakened zombie. Breath caught in my throat, coming out in sputtering coughs as my torso lifted with incredible bruteness. The only thing that came to me as an easing of this pitiful reacquainting was the hands that shot up to tear through the mess of Cruella Devil-esque static atop my head.

My eyes dashed around the cramped room, flickering over every crevice while my hands feverishly attempted to smooth my rats' nest of hair. Why was it taking me so long to find him? How was I missing something so physically hubris?

Because he wasn't there.

Calming (and only slightly upset), my eyes lowered to Saerik's grin. Her smile widened at the attention, bringing up a small container to parallel her line of vision. My focus diverted, squinting towards the object. Plastic walls, cheap looking vented cover, lame beach-like set up inside and painted sea shell.

"Uh...what is it, Erik?"

She exhaled, glee not leaving her face as she pushed to square jar into my lap. I poked at it, unwilling to lift it just yet until I found out exactly what made up its contents.

"It's a hermit crab! I asked the lady at the hotel gift shop, and she said that animals make sick people feel better."

I nearly imagined myself deadpanning like a disgruntled anime character. Sick people? I wasn't sick. Just trapped. But really, she had bought me a pet crab? I gingerly gripped the transparent walls, bringing the almost weightless container to my direct line of vision. Squinted eyes leveled with the sanded floor, I peaked under the ornately decorated shell. I could just make out the very tips of a crustacean's pointed legs from underneath before the slight jerking movement of my arms cause the creature to curl up tighter into it's home.

It was hideous. And smelly. A completely useless pet.

"Erm...thanks, Saerik. This was really nice of you. I love it."

She had spent some of her souvenir money on it. I didn't have the heart to protest the gift when it had been so thoughtful. If it had been my parents getting me something like this, I would have demanded a refund.

"I knew you'd like it," she crowed with delighted pride. Leaning back in the bedside chair, she spoke, "I'm sorry that I couldn't find that boy, but the beach was empty and I didn't know where else to look. Mommy wouldn't let me walk around, so we just went back to the hotel for a while and I found this cutie! What are you going to name him?"

Name him? I had to name the thing, too? I tried to think of what sort of identification would be appropriate. Crusty? Abomination? Kitty? Waste of Life seemed the most fitting; it could be shortened to Wof or Wafe. Still, anything I came up with would be insulting and stupid.

"Well," I sighed, trying to make my tone and words authentically reluctant as to not dampen her spirit. "Maybe you should name him, Erik. You did buy him for me. I'd make him more... special."

Jeez, I should just suck on a soap bar with all this bullshit I keep talking. Maybe I really did deserve to be stuck in this limbo.

Saerik tried to hold back her overwhelming grin by folding her lips together, quivering slightly in her seat.

"Okay! Let's see..."

She trailed off, and I had the feeling I would be waiting for a while. I lowered the animal's cage and pushed him away, plopping it gently -though carelessness was apparent in the action- onto the small table at my side. Now that I thought about, the name 'Edward' flashed in my mind, just as quickly being throw out of the possibility spectrum. Firstly, I was supposed to be forgetting him.

Most importantly, I couldn't use such an saintly name on this piece of mold.

"I got it! I know what to name him," Saerik exclaimed. I nodded, egging her on when she appeared to be sucking in a deep breath suspensefully.

"Jacob!"

I blinked, tilting my head to the side. "Jacob? Why Jacob?"

She bit her bottom lip, the corners of her mouth twisted up. "I like that name. Plus, there's a boy in my class named Jacob that I like a lot, so I thought I'd name the crab after him!"

My dear, dear little sister. You had so much to learn. If you liked the boy, you shouldn't use his name in such vain and degrading ways.

I pulled my dumbfounded self back together, nodding slowly. "Okay...are you sure? I mean, maybe you shouldn't name him after a boy you like. Animals usually have non-human names, like Shadow or something."

Saerik shook her head, mind made up. "Nope, that's weird. I like Jacob."

I skimmed across my options, not knowing why it was instinctual for me to talk her out of this. It just seemed so important.

"What if it's a girl? You should pick out a unisex name since we can't tell. It would be pretty mean to name a girl Jacob, don't you think?"

Her resolve seemed to falter, face making it clear we was back into deliberation. Her expression relaxed slightly after a moment, still looking unnecessarily pensive.

"Well...I like the name Bella for a girl. But what if it's a boy? I can't name **him** Bella or **her** Jacob! What should I do?"

I licked my lips, heaving out heavy air. You know what, this wasn't worth the time. An insignificant, ugly thing didn't need this much effort put into it.

Besides, for some reason I couldn't begin to understand, I purely hated the name Bella. Jacob, however - that one was good.

"Never mind, Erik. We'll just name him Jacob, alright? It's not a big deal and I like that name, too. That boy you like and the crab will both feel honored."

Saerik remained hesitant and unconvinced, simply agreeing for the sake of agreeing. "Fine, if you say so..."

Damn straight, I say so.

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, sucking in a gut-busting breath and releasing it slowly. I lowered my gaze to the eleven-year-old, squinting towards the jewelery clasped onto her twiggy wrist.

"Hey Sear, what time is it?"

How brilliant of me. Only now had I thought to find that out?

She 'hmm'ed, scrunching her face up in concentration and bringing her hand up two inches before her eyes.

"Erm...seven...thirty...eight?"

I felt my features crumble. When had I arrived here? Late morning, it had to have been. About eight hours gone already? But still at least twelve left?

They might as well weld bars onto the window. I was trapped with little more company than my own untrustworthy mind.

I'd like to take back my life now, please. Couldn't I have just stayed under the waves?

...With Edward.

Searik jumped up with an accompanied squeal as I slammed my fist into the mattress.

* * *

The oceanic breeze could have been an arctic gust in the Sahara from it's effectiveness on my nerves. I could feel the salt clinging to my skin, dissolving into my hair and clouding my senses. Was going back to the very place I had could have lost my life only hours after being released from the hospital considered crazy?

I would just have to add it to the mental check list.

My toes snuggled into the sand unconsciously, knees pulled up to my chest. I contently sighed, leaning forward in my seated position to hug my legs as my fingers laced together. Was this some kind of pining? If I stayed here long enough, than Edward would come back, too?

I smiled. Now that I was freed from that medical confinement, the contempt in my one-tracked thoughts didn't feel a fraction as rageous as it had when locked up in that suffocatingly empty room. Alone on the beach, the sun setting straight ahead of me, water crashing with lullaby-like splashes - nothing could bother me while I was here.

The laugh at the back of my throat couldn't be held back as I reluctantly pulled myself up to my feet. If I chanced any more time here, it would be dark before I made it back to the hotel and my parents would never let me out of their sight again (it had been hell enough just to convince them to let me have this visit.) Brushing the sand from my shorts, I made my resolution right then and there. This beach would be my spot - everyday, at least once, my butt would be making good friends with this sand. The height of daylight was out of the question: besides my hatred of excessive sunlight, sardine packed tourist would be even worse. Early morning and the brink of dusk were looking optimum.

Twilight. All the universe alligned perfectly for me then.

I walked away, taking as much time as possible to savor the sand dragging between my toes.

If I just so happened to meet Edward here during one of my daily visits, I would only become more attached to the both of them.

* * *

**(A/N) Once again (and for the last time) I am going to point out that I DO NOT know Portuguese and am being helped by a friend of mine, who isn't fluent eigther but takes the class in school. I'm not sure of the translations, so I deeply apologize if they're not completely right.**

**Ergh, this was a horrible filler, I know. It's just not as much fun for me to write when Edward's not there for me to poke fun at and torture :D Meaning, of course, he'll be in every chapter VERY soon. **

**Okay, positive things first - you guys have been totally sweet with the reviews :D It really makes me happy to hear your inputs and it gets me motivated to keep on going with this story. I'm sorry for being so horrific to Edward (I do plan on introducing him to hermit crab Jacob eventually down the road), but it's how my plot line works ;P Not much overwhelming lovey-dovey shit this early in. Which brings me to the negative point....**

**My slight hatred of the Twilight series expressed in the first chapter has now escalated into full-blown despising and abhorring. I hate obsessive teen girls.**

**I mean, no offense: as long as you don't spend every waking moment squealing over and thinking about it, I don't have a huge problem with you. **

**Unfortunately, I'm surrounded by no-lifed idiots who have absolutely no better interests than chattering about how much they can't wait until this 'amazing' movie comes out (now that it has, even fans are saying it was only 'pretty good' and 'extremely corny', so for me it would probably be a sucky waste of money) showing off their copies (like every other girl in the world hasn't already read it, seen the cover, or actually cares), arguing over who likes it more and who the best character is, and can't manage ten minutes without bringing something Twilight related up. Number one on my 'why I hate freshmen' list this year. Only problem is that it's not only the underclassmen who are guilty. **

**I had previously inserted a chagrin-filled drabble about everything and how much I hate Twilight/Stephanie Meyer, but the Author's Note was about half the length of this chapter, so I thought better than to post it. Obviously, people reading this are fans of the book, so I want to make it clear that I don't mean any offense or disrespect - I just hate how a bunch of girls treat this series like God's gift and Meyer gets praise for something she lucked out on. Her writing isn't incredibly imaginative or educated at all. There are much more deserving author's who think about more than gagging romance and teenage fantasy in their plots. Really, when you think about it, you have to admit that all of her characters are unrealistic. Even if it's a fictional story, I don't find it believable because I can't relate to any of the characters or situations. Again, I could go into a HUGE schpeel, but how hypocritical of me would it be to do that in my own Twilight fanfiction? Venting is great though; it keeps me going.**

**Reviews as well, of course.**


	5. Pucker Up

**Sucker Love**

Chapter Five: Pucker Up

* * *

"Fancy meeting you here."

My muscles tensed, the unconscious upturn of my lips slipping downward. Great. Now I was hearing things. Hallucinations and hauntings I could manage. This added interception to my mental health, however, could _just_ be what it took to cross the line, I had to admit. Imagining his voice, too?

I would ignore it.

I handled myself well, taking in a deep breath while counting to ten (aloud, because really, if there wasn't already enough evidence that I was loony as a toon, that could just top it off and wipe out any doubts) and collectively letting the air out. Surely enough, my freshman health teacher had been right with that stress relieving technique. I shook off every ounce of discontentment and focused on only the beach, the waves, the sand, the wind.

Focus.

It shouldn't have come to much of a honest surprise that Edward's voice had joined his silhouette in my delusions. Spend almost an entire day doing almost nothing but laying around the shore thinking about him and it was bound to happen. Which was why I had chosen this spot as **my **spot. Coated in smelly sand and meditating on this tranquil ground, even my sanity (or better yet, lack there-of) couldn't keep my spirits ousted. Surely those tree-huggers who preached for 'Peace on Earth' camp out on the coast in their down time. There couldn't have been any other location to intoxicate such a mind set.

"Hello?"

Okay, that's right. Focus. Salted zephyr filling my respite, sinking sun broiling comfortably, music of nature harmonized to perfection: this was my sanctuary. A place where I could spend every moment dwelling on caramel eyes without the torment; face my problems head on and over come them. Exhaust his features so much so that he'll become just another face in the crowd. Think about him relentlessly -constantly- to forget him.

It was brilliant. Real Einstein material, if I don't say so myself. Find a safe haven to contemplate without judgement or stares and get so sick of the culprit I'd have no choice but to throw any residual thoughts of him away out of contempt and unimpressed emotions.

It would work.

"I'm sorry. I didn't intend to upset you so much the other day. Thank you for trying to save me, though; it was extremely brave of you. I can understand that you're uncomfortable around me after everything that happened. It wouldn't be the first time that I've driven people away. I can go, if you'd like."

Edward hadn't struck me as the talkative type. Maybe this him in my mind was an alter-ego? The human Bruce Wayne to the super-hero Batman. It made sense, in theory. Every body had their 'other side.'

"Well, I guess if your honestly just going to ignore me I really will leave you to your thoughts..."

Yes, it was a success! Even the imaginary Edward in my head was retreating. This had to be a stroke of pure brilliance on my part; my plans had never worked out so well before. Usually I ended up kicking myself in the ass for being such an idiot, but this time I really had to hand it to myself. It might sound crazy, but I couldn't believe I was actually so smart. Score for Charlie, for once in my life.

I sighed, finally feeling able to enjoy this vacation in the way that I was meant to. Opening my eyes, I cherished the view of the ocean, watching as various nautical athletes challenged the surf farther out in the waves. It wasn't like I had never seen a vast body of water before, but the world was suddenly looking much clearer now that I had ridden myself of Edward. I mean, beaches back in Massachusetts were nice and everything, but I was in _Brazil_. Why had I let myself get side-tracked by a stupid (albeit beautiful) boy? There were plenty of those back home for me to waste my time with. At the moment, I needed to enjoy my stay. Who knew if I'd ever get the chance to journey back to South America again?

Resolute and clear-minded, I decided to do just that. I grunted as I attempted to stand, realizing that I had been seated for so long that my feet had fallen asleep. I struggled not to make a fool of myself again (it was, after all, a few hours away from sunset and there were still some tourists skulking along the beach) and stood still, waiting patiently for the prickling in my toes to subside. It was boring business that left me nothing better to do than people watch. I tried to remain as natural as possible, as if I were simply any other normal person taking a rest and scanning the shore. And it almost worked, too, if I hadn't caught a glimmer from the corner of my eye. I didn't think anything of the young man fifty yards down at first, but when his skin suddenly became a beacon as he passed through a stray ray of sunlight I knew it could only be one person. One shiny, elusive, unable-to-drown person.

I didn't really comprehend another moment until the earth came crashing down. Or, rather, I came crashing down to the earth. One moment I was about to lose my lunch while ogling an in-the-flesh Edward and the next my face had made good friends with the sand. Judging my the pain in my ankles (and the entire front of my body, while I'm at it), moving so suddenly before your feet were able to wake up wasn't a good choice.

And just when I was praising my intelligence...

Scrambling up, any rational thoughts were being rapidly crumpled up as I fought for balance. I was like an animal - I had no logical brain. The only thing I felt was an urge -an instinct- to catch up to Edward before he really disappeared. It made no sense, of course, when I considered I had put so much time in trying to forget him, but I wasn't exactly in a place to consider myself sensible.

The only thing I should have considered myself was DEFICIENT.

I shuffled upwards, climbing unsteadily to my feet and taking off. I could feel the joints in my legs cracking and protesting the the sudden force, but I turned the other cheek and kept my goal in mind. It may have hurt, but I would get to Edward if it killed me.

"Wait!" I heard myself calling out desperately, no longer having any control over what I was going and running on pure adrenaline. "Edward!"

Even when he paused and turned back to my galloping form I didn't slow down. I think a part of me almost expected him to be a mirage that would vanish right as I reached out to touch him. The idea probably contributed to the way I allowed myself to plow right into his torso like we were playing rugby and I was going in for the tackle.

"Whoa," the Adonis chuckled, steadying me by the shoulders and barely even flinching. I marveled as his ability to remain poised even when some freak came running up and into him.

Panting, I forced my wavering eyes upwards to meet his. God, they were such a pretty amber color. Why did I want to forget them again? I liked this fantasy. It was more beautiful than a world without magical male fairies.

Edward's smile lessened, brows lowering in confusion as he released his hold on me. For a second I thought my knees might just buckle without his hands there to hold me up, but his voice kept me standing.

"What are you doing here? I assumed we wouldn't be speaking anymore - you made that fairly clear a few minutes ago. May I ask what changed your mind?"

I blinked, a little distracted by his face to grasp what he was saying. Did that mean, back when I was meditating some ways back, the Edward in my mind wasn't really in my mind? That was the real one actually _accosting_ me for conversation and I blew him off?

Great going, Charles. That "score for Charlie" just turned into minus a million.

"Uhm," I gulped, trying to come up with some sort of rational explanation for that. Should I just go with the truth and say I WAS intentionally hoping he'd go away? No, then it would be weird that I ran after him so quickly. I needed to come up with something that actually made me seem sane. "Well... you see, I... uh..."

If anything, the growing smile on Edwards face was halting any brain activity rather than encouraging it.

"Never mind," he dismissed, shaking his head and lowering his gaze to the ground. It was only then that I noticed the upturn of his lips was more for show than out of any genuine mirth. "Don't worry about it. I should get used to being alone anyway."

I was left speechless as he absentmindedly kicked at the sand. What was he going on about? Why would he chose to seclude himself from the outside world? It was a crime against humanity to keep that kind of face behind closed doors! And the guy wasn't exactly a jerk, either. Annoyingly mysterious, but no potential murderer.

Edward choked on a sarcastic laugh, bringing me back to reality. He took a step back, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his trousers.

"I'm sorry I ever bothered you," he said, as if I showed any signs resented his company. "Really, I won't disturb you again."

"Hold on!" I protested as he turned away. While he made no other move to walk away, he couldn't bring himself to look at me again. My mouth flapped on its hinges wordlessly, my mind racking through every cell to find something to convince him to stay. "I-I never said you were bothering me! I just space out a lot - I didn't even realize you were talking to me back there."

Great. Admit that I'm a dork who gets so absorbed in her imagination that she leaves reality completely. Wait to defend myself.

Taking a deep breath, I gathered my wits about me. If I was too busy putting myself down, there was no way I could get the point across to Edward that I wasn't a total loser. I had to believe I was worth a conversation before I could brainwash him into giving me the time of day.

"This has nothing to do with you," he broke in suddenly, sounding so assuring. I was a little unnerved, wondering how he always seemed to pop in with perfectly relevant inputs to whatever thoughts I was thinking. It reminded me of my time in the hospital when I spend hours trying to figure that strange (and slightly scary, I admit) habit out.

He cleared his throat, looking over her shoulder sheepishly to catch my eye. I instantly forgot what troubled thoughts were buzzing around in my head.

"Honestly," Edward said in a hush, "don't think there's something wrong with you - it's me that's screwed up. It's better for the both of us if I leave you alone."

"No," I protested before I could stop myself. I kept the ball rolling, though, not bothering to try and over-think my actions anymore. "I _want _to be around you. I'm in a foreign country with no one but my family - anyone who speaks English is welcomed company."

I smiled despite myself, feeling both liberated and mortified at this new-found boldness. "I don't know what you're problem getting close to people is, but I figure between the both of us we're freakish enough to start a club. So what do you say..." I bit my lip, unsure if I should really say something so cheesy. "...friends? At least until the end of the week when I go back to America, anyway?"

I almost vomitted when he didn't answer right away, looking at me like I was a hobo asking to go home with him. He was going to leave for sure, now. Why couldn't I have just stayed over-reacting and quirkish? It would keep me out of these kinds of humiliating situations.

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," Edward said slowly from above me, drawing my attention back to his face. In the dull lighting his skin almost seemed to be glittering lightly. I reminded myself that the air was sweltering and it was probably just perspiration. He was human after all.

Rather than trust my words again, I chose the silent route, trying to convey some kind of message with my stare that would prevent him from migrating away. All was still for an enternal moment, only the splashing waves ruining the bubble surrounding us, before he exhaled heavily, looking the most ungraceful I had ever seen him.

"Fine," he settled, not exactly looking over the hill about his answer. "We can be friends, but only until you leave."

Despite the odd emotion in his words my heart was soaring. Maybe being forward wasn't so bad. Was it really this easy?

"Try to contain your enthusiasm," I teased, liking the feeling of speaking my mind. This friendship with a god thing was really boosting my confidence. "Keep up that cheer and you might be recruited as the next Wiggle."

"Wiggle?" he questioned, taking the initiative to start walking. I stepped up, placing myself at his side as we settled into a stroll.

"Yeah, you know, like the kid's show _The Wiggles_," I clarified, suddenly feeling stupid again. "Forget it, that was lame..."

I wished I had a rifle to shoot myself with. Just when I think I've got him hooked I have to bring up _The Wiggles_, of all things. We were teenagers - why was I talking about a band aimed towards three-year-olds? I shouldn't even know the Playhouse Disney line-up!

"You might want to wash your face," Edward said after a long pause, getting my hopes up that I hadn't completely ruined my chances just yet. The corner of his lips pulled up as he made to bring a hand up to touch my face before thinking better of it and looking away. "Covered in all that sand, you may just be mistaken for the Sandman."

Sand?

Bringing my fingers up to my cheeks, I felt thousands of tiny grain rather than soft flesh.

"Shit!"

I cold feel all of the space between my ears catching on fire as I beat the eroded rock from my upper half, realizing that almost every inch of me from the knees up was encrusted in drying mud. Reaching a new state of panic, I went into ramble mode.

"I'm so sorry! It's just that before I caught up to you I tripped or something! I didn't know sand would be so sticky! I should have checked myself or something before I came up to you. Crap, I'm sorry..."

I didn't exactly know what it was I was apologising for, but it was just in my nature as a worry-wart to apologize whenever I was embarrassed. Figuring that Edward was probably about ready to tell me to find some pals within my own league I peered at him from the corner of my eye, awaiting the blow.

He was smiling, but it didn't seem nearly as ill-intended as I had envisioned. It was actually really nice; breathtaking, even. Teeth and all, it practically seemed to light up the sky in my mind. Realizing that it was the first time I had ever seen him so completely outside of his apathetic state, I felt a twinge of warmth in my gut about being the reason for it.

Okay, so maybe I was socially awkward and would end up making a fool of myself whenever Edward and I were in sight of each other, but if it got him to grin like that I think I could handle the self-peevishness.

* * *

"Where have you been all day, Charlie?" my mother questioned over dinner a few hours later. I coughed, choking on the remains of mashed potato that had been slowly disintegrating in my mouth for the past five minutes. The act didn't go unnoticed by my family, all of which sent me questioning stares and I pat my chest to sooth the swallowing process.

"Nowhere," I blurted, kicking myself when I realized that answer would only pipe their curiousity and raise suspicion. "Just the beach."

My mother rolled her eyes, taking the napkin from her lap and folding it onto her empty plate. "Really, I don't understand how you can spend so much time at the beach. There are plenty of those at home! We're supposed to be on vacation, so I think it's time we did something together. We've already wasted three days hanging around the hotel and our trip has been set back enough."

Her words brought my utopia plummeting to sea level. She was right: we had already been here three days. We had arrived on Monday, I was hospitalized Tuesday evening, and today was Wednesday. Our flight back to the states left the next Monday morning. There were only four days left here...

There was only four days with me to spend time with Edward.

"I want to go to a water park," Saerik said studiously. "Or a theme park."

"You don't even like roller-coasters," I protested against her suggestions, my argumentative side working on autopilot as I tried to come up with some way to create as much leisure time for myself as possible.

"So, I like the other rides," Saerik backfired, frowning at me with her usual brat face. "Besides, _you _like roller-coasters."

"We could walk around the outdoor markets," mom nodded, dollar signs practically shining in her eyes at the prospect. "I'm sure they have some nice little shops with cute things at low prices."

"That's such a tourist thing to do," I rolled my eyes. "Besides, they have malls back home you can blow your money on."

She sent me a chilling stare that let me know I had crossed the line with that remark. I cowered under the scolding gaze, forgetting about my mission to stop all things family oriented.

"There's always museums," my father cut in, finding the thought of history thrilling. "It's be nice to learn about the culture and backgrounds of this place while we're here to see it first-hand."

"That's boring," Saerik gave her judgment, saving me the trouble of answering. "I want to do something fun!"

"That's enough," my mother said, holding her hands up in a sign of objection. The three of us, knowing from past experience, immediately quieted and bowed down to the one in power. "Now, we'll figure something out tomorrow. I don't care if we have to pick something out of a hat to settle the place, but all of us are going to tour as a family. Charlie, don't even try to fight it because you're going whether you like it or not, end of story. Now," she sighed, making a show of lifting herself out of the chair. "We should go back to our rooms and wind down. Let's rest up for our adventure tomorrow."

Not being in any position to deny her demand we all followed suit and dragged our feet upstairs. Safely locked behind my door I slumped over to the bed, wondering why things always had to work out horribly for me. Edward and I were making progress - we had spent almost an hour on the beach together talking about nothing until it started to get dark and he urged me to go back to the hotel. I'd never been one to believe in love at first sight, but I had never met Edward. I was fully aware that liking someone for their looks was shallow, but I think after today I knew enough about his personality to not feel so bad about realizing my affection.

Yeah, I think I was actually falling for the guy. Sue me. Of course, it was starting to seem like I would never get the chance to know for sure and act on those feelings while my family was there to intervene.

I got that we were here on vacation and my mom wanted to get out and have us all spend time together, but I think I was old enough to decide for myself what I want to do and not have to stand at my parents' side holding their hands. Rather than the typical dreading of being forced to venture into the outside world with my family, I was tortured with the depressing fact that every miserable minute I spent with them was one away from the limited time I had left with Edward.

God, my life sucked.

* * *

**(A/N) ...What? It's been how long since I last updated, you say? No. You're crazy, all of you. I would never do such a thing!**

**...All sarcasm aside, I deeply apologize for the wait. I really have no excuse - I just don't have particularly fuzzy feelings towards either the Twilight Saga or this story. I'm deeply tempted to drop it, but I wouldn't do that to you guys (plus it would totally ruin my record :P). There's obviously not too much of the story left, so I'm positive I'll be able to finish this up eventually. Also, I've considered changing the 'Romance' theme to 'Friendship' since I think we all know that there won't be an Edward/Charlie ending, but I'm leaving it as it is do to the fact that it's a one-sided love story, I guess. Okay? Lastly, there just may be another big gap between this and the next chapter (though not as significant as the last ;P). My inspiration is at an all time low. Review to give me a little boost, if you'd like.**

**No, really. Do it. It will help immensely...**


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